


Company

by chraezanty17



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, fluff (sort of)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 10:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3764914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chraezanty17/pseuds/chraezanty17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Éponine is feeling down and Enjolras only thinks he knows why that is.<br/>Or: The One Where Enjolras Is Clueless And Montparnasse Is Laughing At The Sidelines.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Company

**Author's Note:**

> Beware of possibly cheesy lines. I was bored and this was the result. No literary masterpiece to be found here.

Enjolras finds her crouched on the window sill with the pouring rain beating against the glass.

She has her arms wrapped around her knees, resting her head atop them. Among the mass of unruly jet-black curls, it is impossible to discern her face. Her body is drowned in an oversized red sweater – careless, clumsy stitches, but undoubtedly self-made.

Taking great care to not disturb the silence any more than absolutely necessary, Enjolras creeps up to her and lightly shakes her shoulder.

Éponine jerks awake. "Don't do that!"

Enjolras raises his hands in surrender. "Sorry." A beat. One more. "You looked lonely."

She scoffs at the notion, glossing over her puffy eyes and wet sleeve that is bound to have soaked in more than mere water from the drain. "Yeah, 'cause it's not like I ever sit here just because I feel like it. Obviously, 'cause this is _me_ we're talking about, this location signifies melancholy and depression."

He is fairly sure that he could cut through the electricity in the room with the edge on her voice. It is sandpaper on frayed velvet, continually cutting through the smooth fabric of honest concern and tearing it to tatters. "Have you been smoking again?"

Again with that snort usually reserved for cheesy romcom " _And-They-Lived-Happily-Ever-After_ "s. "Have you decided that sleep is intended for us mere mortals, excluding Yours Truly?"

The grimy fingernails digging into her palms do not escape his notice. "I guess I might be suffering from insomnia again, guilty as charged, but this isn't about me. I think I know why you're feeling down, though."

This finally causes her to look up and while Enjolras is not sure if he should feel insulted because of the incredulity written plainly on her face or not, he is relieved.

* * *

"I'm not gonna apologize."

He makes it clear where they stand from the very beginning, this much has not changed in the weeks she had not seen him. It's a trait she's come to dearly appreciate - it prevents misunderstandings on a larger scale. Still, she is confused as to why he has come in the first place. She tells him so, give or take a few obscenities. It would be save to say the hurt in her voice makes itself felt.

Montparnasse shrugs and heedlessly occupies the pillow on the window sill where before, there had been empty air to keep her company. "Was summoned, of sorts. Someone figured I owe you an explanation. Though I'm surprised Blondie didn't have the guts to actually talk to me himself, but what can I say? I know where he might have got the idea that his girl can fend for herself."

He throws her a wicked smile, the one that used to serve as a heads-up as he pinned her against a wall of some shadowy alley, hands roaming over her body more often than not. It used to send shivers running up and down her spine.

Now, it simply leaves an unpleasant aftertaste in her mouth.

He continues without insuring she's actually paying attention. "We never said that it was goin' to be a monogamy thing and you were okay with that, remember? No idea why you're so mad now, 'Ponine. Honest to the Lord." The handsome vagabond places his right hand over his heart to prove his sincerity.

Éponine sighs. She is pleased to watch his features distort into outright cluelessness as she chuckles. "I'm not mad at you, 'Parnasse. You're free to screw as many whores as will live to take your money."

Montparnasse acknowledges the new piece of information with a hat tip complemented by a flash of white teeth. For unfathomable reasons, he insists on dressing like a gentlemen out of those black-and-white movies (She's embarrassed to admit that he pulls it off too well for his own good, too).

"I'm annoyed, to put it mildly, because I don't have any idea what to do with myself. Being independent isn't all it's made out to be when you are on your own. I can't actually live off a waitress job, or two, or even three. Seeing as I got kicked out of half the restaurants in this town that's no longer an option - no thanks to you, mister..."

He rolls his eyes, muttering, "Ain't my fault if that fancy business guy cannot deal with people not calling him  _m'sieur_ every time he practically steals money out of their pocket in front of their eyes."

She responds with a smile, but goes on. "Also, apartments are freaking  _expensive_. Can you imagine? I could easily get enough food to last me five months for the sum they demand!"

The black-haired girl lets out a breath she's been holding for some time now and leans her head against his shoulder. Familiarity winning over better sense.

"I'm not his girl."

The whisper almost goes unheard, but then again Montparnasse takes great pride in his sharpened senses.

He throws back his head - his laugh is a guttural sound, but an undeniably contagious one. "Yeah, and I'm a knight in shining armour. There's not a guy around that would let a girl stay at his place indefinitely if he didn't want into her pants sooner or later, believe me."

He winks at her, clearly enjoying the entire situation.

Éponine punches his shoulder, hard. "Anything else?"

He acts offended. "You do not take my words of wisdom to heart, do you?" He shakes his head, as if these are tragic news. "I'll see you around - you know where to find me."

Montparnasse laughs when she makes to get up and escort him outside. "I know where the door is, love."

He disappears from sight with a wave of his hand and the arrogance of consciously being handsome as the devil. She cannot pick him out from the crowd passing under her window, and soon enough, she gives up.

"Are the two of you together again?"

Éponine turns around, sloping smile blossoming into a full-blown grin. "Not even remotely."

She thinks Enjolras makes for a comic sight when thrown off-balance.

When she throws her arms around his neck and buries her face in his shirt, she thinks of what Montparnasse told her and mumbles, "I might have one aspect of my life figured out now."

"What's that?" He is hesitant, but ultimately hugs her back.

"The one where I hit rock bottom and become hopeful again."

She raises her head to look him in the eye. "And if you ever spread the word that this line came from me, I will find and kill you. Montparnasse swears he knows how to get rid of dead bodies and I might just take him up on his offer."


End file.
